Change
by datawolf39
Summary: John comes back from baskerville a little different than when he went. rated T for later on in the story.
1. Prologue

John had been feeling horrible for the past few days since he and Sherlock had returned from their trip to investigate the hound and the mystery that surrounded Henry his whole life. For once, though it had nothing to do with being Sherlock's guinea pig during some experiment.

But despite the fact that he felt so sick he figured that he could make it to Tuesday which was a day that was usually case free. Then he could just rest and recover since he figured that it was a combination of exhaustion and continued labor that had him feeling like this in the first place.

Monday morning rolled around and groaning John got up repeating the mantra 'one more day one more day' internally. After a speedy shower he sluggishly moved down the stairs with the intent of preparing tea and maybe some toast since he didn't think that he could handle anything heavier than that at the moment.

By the time Sherlock joined him at the table he had drank half his cup of tea and was able to appear as calm as he normally did at breakfast. Hopefully today would go off without a hitch and a minimal amount of running but he just knew that something was going to go wrong because it always did.

**A/N short I know but I just wanted to establish timeline and sick!John and I also wanted to ask a question. This is going to be an AU obviously and it's also going to contain John turning into an animal. I know what I want him to be but I just wanted to ask what other people think that he should be. **


	2. An idiot at a crime scene

**A/N okay i had this written up days ago but i left my flash when i went home and couldn't put it up. i have Chaps two and three planned in my head so they should be up within a day or two.**

Chapter 1- An Idiot at a crime scene

They say hindsight is 20/20 and whoever they are were absolutely right. In hindsight John should have known, and not only thought, that this were going to go wrong seeing as Anderson and Donovan were already at the crime scene when he and Sherlock showed up.

One of them was bad enough but both of them together could wear down his patience like nothing else in the world and seeing as he was living with one of the craziest people on the planet and had to constantly put up with being kidnapped by Mycroft 'I only occupy a minor position in the British Government' Holmes that was saying quite a bit.

Sherlock had gotten the call from Lestrade right after breakfast and they had both headed out. When they arrived on the scene Donovan greeted them with her customary greeting of 'freak' and 'pet' just like normal and they both simply ignored her just because they both knew how angry that made her and walked into the building where the dead woman was.

When Sherlock's eyes fell on the body his eyes lighted in excitement and John knew that this case would be thrilling case just from that one look.

Sadly he wasn't the only one to notice the look. "You've finally crossed the line haven't you," Anderson accused. "I saw the way that you just looked at her body."

Now this sort of accusation was routine but for some reason today it grated on John's last nerve. Now it could have been because of the headache that was pounding like a drum in his head and it might have had something to do with the fact that only his strength of will was a stopping him from tossing his cookies but the most likely reason may have been that Anderson's insufferable attitude had just finally broke his patience.

Before Sherlock could say anything at all John took a breath and put on a smile that was anything but pleasant and looked at the man with such disdain that he should have melted into a puddle of liquid. "I would appreciate if you will keep your opinions to yourself. Sherlock likes to solve crimes not commit them and if you were even competent at your job he probably wouldn't be here. So shut up take a seat and let him work."

With that John stepped back and leaned against the wall furthest away from the man so that he could reduce the sudden urge he had to rip him to shreds.

He felt Sherlock's eyes on him and he saw the slight smile of amusement and couldn't help but return it.

Everything would have been fine had it ended there but Anderson, being the idiot that he was, had to push it.

"So it's obvious that she was dragged here after she was already dead. But the killer was inexperienced judging by the murder weapon and the sloppiness of the kill. Now all I need-" Sherlock deduced only to be interrupted by Anderson.

"That's a good dog standing up for your master. He has you trained properly doesn't he? You'd do anything he told you to wouldn't you?"

John dug his fingernails into his hands as a growl rose in his throat. His body felt like it had been set on fire and the only thing that saved Anderson from certain death was the fact that felt as though his body was trying to pull itself apart and it _hurt_. He had never felt so much pain in his life, and that was saying something considering that he had been in the army, and the pain was growing stronger and stronger and he was helpless to stop it. The rage was building too and he was literally scared of himself but that was only a bit of his mind. The rest was intent on destroying the bloody bastard that dared to insult his friend and him.

Sherlock took this in and he could see that if he didn't act quickly then Anderson might end up dead. He had seen John mad but the John before him now was murderous and as much as he would like to rid the world of Anderson's idiocy he didn't want his best and only friend to go to jail for being the murderer.

Calmly he walked toward John secure in the knowledge that his friend wouldn't hurt him. "Get Anderson out of here," he said not looking behind him to see if his command was being carried out. He knew it would be because Lestrade had arrived a moment ago and he listened to Sherlock.

"John," Sherlock said quietly once he heard the pair of footsteps fade. Sherlock's eyes locked with John's and he could read everything there. The fear, the rage, everything.

"John," he repeated almost close enough to touch him and then he took one more step. Then another and then in a swift move he hugged him. For a moment the body of his friend stiffened and then he felt the shaking accompanied by heavy breathing. Then John moved in closer and laid his head against Sherlock's chest and his fist loosened leaving his hands dangling at his sides.

Two things came to Sherlock's attention in rapid succession. One that his friend's temperature was way higher than was safe and two that there was a quiet _plip plip _sound. He pulled away just a bit and he could see the small puddles of blood that were gathering on either side of John. Quickly he stepped futher away and grabbed John's hands with his own turning them palm up. On each palm there were four deep gashes as though he had dug claws and not nails into his hand.

John looked at his hands to as though he was startled to find that there was blood there. Even worse was he was beginning to look around like he had forgotten exactly where he was but Sherlock deduced that that may have been caused by the fever as much as by the blood loss.

What made Sherlock angry was that he hadn't noticed that John was sick. He supposed that he could blame it on the case but John had to have been feeling ill for more than one day. As a friend he should have noticed.

Sherlock shook off those thoughts and began to plan. John obviously needed medical attention so he supposed that he should call an ambulance but something about this felt wrong and if something odd was happening to his friend he didn't want some idiot treating him. That left one option and though he loathed having to depend on his brother John was worth the suffering.

Decided, he held an only barely conscious John with one arm and pulled out his phone with the other. It rang once before it was picked up. "Mycroft I need your help."


	3. The calm

Chapter 2- The Calm

Sherlock had not slept and had barely eaten a thing in three days which in itself was not that unusual but for once it wasn't just a side-effect of working on a case. No the reason was so much more important than a case and laying on a cot breathing heavily and tossing while he sat helplessly watching a hand's width away on a comfortable armchair.

"Brother you have to rest_,"_ Mycroft said as he walked into the room and placing down a covered plate of something that Sherlock was sure had been drugged 'for his own good' he was tired not stupid.

Sherlock's eyes drifted over to his brother to give him a half-hearted glare before returning his gaze back to John.

Mycroft knew a dismissal when he saw one and left not bothering to say anything else since he knew that Sherlock was most likely going to just delete whatever he had to say and he'd rather not waste his breath.

It was hard to believe that three days had really passed since he and John had arrived here after the call to Mycroft who was just as insufferable as Sherlock had thought he would be.

Only seconds after the call, Sherlock was carrying John out of the crime scene, and getting into the shiny black car that had arrived and took them to an old two story school building that Mycroft had converted into a base.

Within moments of arriving John had been hooked up to a heart monitor divested of his clothing, Sherlock managed to keep them from cutting up the jumper though because when John awoke he was sure that he would be happy that his favorite jumper hadn't been demolished, and shoved into one of those atrocious hospital gowns.

John had woken only once three hours after he had gotten there. He was in so much pain, even with the drugs in his system, that he could hardly speak but when he caught sight of Sherlock he smiled and said "Sorry about the case."

For one second the detective stood still in utter shock. He could not believe what his ears had heard. John was obviously in a great deal of pain and that was the thing he chose to waste energy on saying. 'It really shouldn't surprise me' he thought 'it is John after all'

"Do you know what's wrong with you?" he asked as he rang for the doctor.

John shook his head, almost imperceptibly, obviously in too much pain to speak again. The doctor came in and after taking a few readings he had upped John's dose of morphine.

Sherlock had been sitting there ever since that moment waiting. He admitted if only to himself that he was scared. It wasn't the kind of fear that he had felt back during the whole Baskerville situation but this was a more mind-numbing kind of fear. Whatever was happing to John wasn't normal that much he could tell. John had become a constant in his life, a fixed point of dependency, and it was hard to imagine himself going back to how he had been before he had met John.

It took seeing his friend like this to make him realize how much he had come to valued him. Not that he would ever admit it out loud of course. He could be a little more considerate though just to show him what he meant how important he was to him. Maybe a few less appendages in the fridge and maybe not playing his violin at one in the morning would be a good start.

"What's wif dat look," John said in a voice that was muddled a bit by the drugs that were still in his blood. They had, had to remove the IV the previous day because his body had been jerking and they were afraid that he might have yanked it out if he had shook too violently.

"Nothing I was just thinking about-" he suddenly broke off when he realized who was speaking to him. "John!" he said voice colored by surprise and relief.

John stared for a moment then smiled at him. After a drink of water he said "You need to rest. You're acting almost human."

"Despite what you and others choose to believe I am Homo-sapien in origin."

"Really!?" John said sounding genuinely surprised by the news.

"Of course he is human John. We are brothers after all." Mycroft said as he entered the room.

"That's not exactly proof Mycroft." Sherlock said.

"If anything that proves that he could be an alien." John added. "I'm not convinced that you're human either what with the fact that you carry around an umbrella you're like a male Mary Poppins that just can't be normal."

Suddenly Sherlock burst out with laughter. "Just imagining Mycroft floating away on his umbrella can't you see it John, _Mycroft_ Poppins."

John was stunned for a moment but then he looked over at Mycroft and he couldn't help bursting into a round of laughter himself. Both he and Sherlock tried to stop but then they looked at Mycroft and then each other and began giggling like school children once more.

"It could be part of the 'Merry Mycroft Musical' John choked out.

Sherlock's eyes widened and he began laughing harder than before. "Staring Queen Mycroft," he said referring back to the conversation that he and John had, had back at the palace. John got the reference immediately and started to cry from laughing to hard.

Mycroft was just rolling his eyes he always seemed to be the butt of jokes for these two. But it was nice to see his brother like this so it was worth a few jokes at his expense to see this not that he would ever say that, he had an image to maintain after all.

"If you two are done?" he asked.

"Yes Your Majesty," John said choking on more laughter.

_Later in Mycroft's car_

"Think Mycroft will send someone after us?" John asked as they got out of the car in front of 221B feeling a bit bad about the laughfest that they had, had at the older Holmes's expense.

"Mycroft will be fine John," Sherlock said dismissively as he opened the door.

"So what was the matter with me?" John asked.

Sherlock snapped around.

"Oh don't look so shocked I know Mycroft told you whatever his doctor found out."

"Very well," Sherlock said as he opened the door to their flat. "He said that the only thing that was wrong besides exhaustion was an anomaly in your blood work." Sherlock said as though he were dissatisfied with the information. "Naturally they couldn't tell what had made you feel so much pain."

"Well I feel okay now," John said going into the kitchen to make tea while Sherlock flopped on the couch.

After the tea was ready John sat one cup on the table in front of the couch and took the other and sat in his chair. "I've been meaning to ask why you hugged me that day at the crime scene." John said after he sipped his tea.

"It was the best way to restrain you John and I knew that you wouldn't hurt me."

"How?"

"If you were going to hurt me it would have been a long time ago.

"You're right."

"I always am."

"About things that you know."

"Oh please don't start with the whole solar system bit again."

John smiled and drunk more tea. "Thanks by the way," he said a moment later.

Sherlock looked at him.

"Well you called Mycroft I know how much you detest that and you put up with him just to stay with me I dare say it was nice of you."

"Well of course I had to stay to make sure that you were okay who else would share a flat with me and blog about the cases."

"Glad I'm good for something," John said.

"Of course you are why else would I keep you around?"

"Was that… a compliment?" John asked

"Of course it was," Sherlock said as though it should have been obvious.

'Only he could insult someone with a complement' John thought.

Three seconds later a small square cushion collided with the head of Sherlock Holmes.

That night neighbors complained of the noise from a slumber party.

**A/N sorry i couldn't resist John throwing a pillow at him even if it is a bit OOC. anyway the next chap is where the exciting stuff is going to happen. it was supposed to be in this one but it didn't end up like that. *sigh* oh well hope you liked this and the next chap should be up in a day or two depending on how Thanksgiving goes. Happy Thanksgiving by the way. Oh and i wouldn't be surprised if I upload a Sherlock oneshot soon cause i got ideas rolling around my head but i wanna do a lot with this story. Shutting up now as always Rand R. **


	4. The Storm

Chapter 3 – the storm

John was hiding something from him. That wasn't unusual though since the man had often tried to hide things from him even though he always found out in the end. No the part that irked him was the fact that John was completely successful in hiding whatever it was. Now this would have been a big deal if the secret that John was hiding hadn't changed how he behaved. John had managed to keep secrets from him but he had always knew what the secret was about and out of respect for John left it alone most of the time.

It had been about a week since they had been back from Mycroft's hideout. At first things were very good and they had easily slipped comfortably back to their normal routine of solving cases and berating Lestrade's team for being incompetent and if Sherlock was a tad more considerate neither of them saw fit to mention it. But then it changed John became unnaturally calm all the time.

This calm John was not his John. His John was a whirlwind of emotion restrained under that soldier's training. He was a very strong speaker of sentiment and feeling. This John was an imposter. He was unflappable and agreeable in a most annoying way and in essence a shell of his John.

Sherlock did not like this so he started doing things just to get a reaction. He played his violin at midnight; his experiments became gruesome even by his standards and as a last resort shot up the wall again but that received nothing more than a shake of the head and a confiscation of the firearm which was promptly hidden.

Finally he was at his wits end and decided that he just had to confront him. 'I wonder if this is the kind of frustration that people feel with me.' He wondered as he lay on the sofa waiting for John to come home from the job that he insisted on having even though Sherlock thought that hi time would be better spent being his partner full-time.

The door opened and Sherlock stood and approached his flatmate.

"I'm not used to having to ask John. You know that. I experiment and deduce from the facts. But you are hiding something and you are hiding it well but you have to tell me John because it's changing you and I don't like it."

"Why do you care? As long as I can pay my half of the rent and can do your grunt work everything should be fine right?" John said in the monotone he had come to expect.

"Have you forgotten already what I said before? You are my friend John. Like I said I distance myself from my emotions but that doesn't mean that I don't have them at all. I am capable of caring John I thought you would know that."

"I do know that," John said with the tiniest crack in the unnaturally calm monotone.

"Then tell me what's going on John!" Sherlock demanded grabbing him around at the shoulders when he tried to move away.

Sherlock could see the moment that the facade shattered. He could pinpoint the exact second when the emotion, that had been held back for far too long, overrode it's imprisonment in the confines of the calmness.

John broke his hold and in a flash reversed it and suddenly the fact that Sherlock was taller than he was didn't register. Sherlock felt small and for the first time he feared John. The usual kind and understanding blue eyes were changed to a startling shade of gold, the grip on his body was so tight that he thought he would have bruises by the end of the encounter if not broken bones. He felt himself shoved until he was against the wall and were those claws digging into his arm? He dare not turn and look because at this moment he thought he was going to die and for the first time he was scared for his life because he had never foreseen this circumstance because he had placed the ultimate trust in John.

Then it was over. John stepped back mouth agape in horror at the fact that he had not only scared Sherlock, his friend his best friend, he had hurt him to he could smell the blood and suddenly it was over. All of it the adventure friendship, all of it down the drain and it was his fault because he couldn't stay calm and restrain himself.

"I'm… Sorry." He choked out and then he ran. He didn't even watch where he was going it didn't matter anymore. He would welcome death he deserved it. For the first time since he had met the irritating genius child of a man he wished that the bullet had killed him back in that sandy desert. He never wanted to be found and he knew to do that he would have to go underground or leave London and go to the country because it wouldn't do to have Mycroft track him down with those CCTV cameras.

Sherlock was still in the flat though he had slid down the wall in shock. His mind was whirling though. 'He left. He's gone. He was hiding everything for my protection for other's protection. I should have known should have seen it before I pushed him now he's gone.' Sherlock stood on his he had to find John. John was a danger to himself right now and for a moment Sherlock considered that the man might end it all. Quickly he shook off the thought it wasn't helping. He could forego the call to Mycroft because he knew that John's first thought would be to escape to someplace that those pesky cameras couldn't find him.

Suddenly the door opened and he came face to face with Lestrade who was being followed by Donovan, Anderson, and some other guy that he barely took the time to notice. He scowled he didn't have time for Lestrade and his merry band of idiots he had to find John.

"What's the big idea not answering your phone?" Lestrade asked walking over like he had every right to barge in whenever he felt like it. Sherlock said nothing and just looked at him coldly.

"I'm busy." He said as he attempted to walk around the DI only to be grabbed about the shoulders in the exact same fashion as John had grabbed him. Lestrade's eyes widened when he felt the sticky blood, hidden from sight because of the dark fabric of Sherlock's shirt, coat his fingers.

The DI was even more surprised when the self-proclaimed sociopath collapsed against him. After sitting the man down on the couch with a little help from Donovan he could see that for once Sherlock had gone into shock. The DI was worried now so he reached into his pocket to get his cellphone only to be stopped by a pale a trembling hand grabbing his wrist in a grip that was sure to leave a bruise.

"No." said the consulting detective in a voice that was a mere shadow of his usual arrogant tone.

Respecting the man's wishes, for now at least, he looked over at Donovan and said "Go get the first aid kit it's in the kitchen in the cabinet above the sink."

Sherlock's mind was in utter turmoil. Lesrade just had to touch him didn't he? Just had to make his body relive the encounter with John in vivid detail didn't he? He needed to be out looking for John but instead he was at home unable to move trapped by his body's reactions.

Suddenly he stiffened. Something stung. It was then he realized that Lestrade was treating his wounds. When had his shirt been removed? There was a snap that he identified as the first aid kit being shut he had heard that sound plenty of times before. He tried to get up his legs were shaking though and he felt a bit chilled for some reason. Then he remembered that his shirt was off. He organized the facts in his mind as best he could as he fell back on the couch. First he needed to find John, so he needed to get out of shock. So he did the only thing he could think to do. Gave himself something else to focus on instead. Before anyone could figure out what he was doing stop him he bit down hard into the skin on his wrist. As the pain became more pronounced his mind started to clear. Unfortunately the bite broke the skin but he figured that it was a fair trade for the returned usage of his mind.

Lestrade , on the other hand didn't agree. "What the hell Sherlock!? Are you a bloody masochist!? I just finished playing doctor on those cuts on your arms and you go and deal yourself more damage!" Lestrade said outraged. His face becoming red from anger.

"Calm yourself Detective inspector I couldn't function so I remedied the problem. Now if you'll excuse me I have to go," and with that Sherlock donned his ruined shirt and tossed on his coat walking out the door.

/

Sherlock had been in the tunnels for the last four hours searching knowing that this was the only place that was virtually out of reach of cameras in the city. He only hoped that John hadn't left the city. So lost in his thoughts was he that he didn't even notice the person coming right up behind him until he was being choke against the tunnel wall.

He just might have laughed had he had enough air to do so. The hand that was choking him belonged to someone he never truly expected to see again. It was the Golem and this time it didn't seem as though he was going to get away. Dark spots were clouding his vision when he heard the low growl vibrating through the tunnel. Suddenly he could breathe again.

He opened his eyes not aware of the moment they had closed and he saw a sight that made him stare. A six foot beast that resembled a husky was biting at the neck of the huge man. When the Golem tried to reach out to its neck the beast skillfully dodged and took a swipe at the man with its massive paw.

The Golem grunted and charged tackling the animal and it landed on its back underside exposed. When the Golem went to take advantage of this Sherlock saw that the beast had merely played possum to lure the brute in and as he came closer the teeth of the beast snapped around the brute;s neck. The Golem struggled but it did no good as the pain he inflicted only served to make the beast bite down harder until the man was dead and bleeding out upon the tunnel floor.

The beast shook himself, nudged the dead killer with a paw and walked over to where Sherlock had remained throughout the battle on three paws with the right forepaw held up. When he stood just inches from Sherlock it bent down and nudged him softly and looked at him with worried blue eyes.

That was when he realized. "John?" he asked.

The animal smiled at the fact that he was recognized. Gently John moved between Sherlock and the tunnel wall and wrapped him warm body around the man who for the third time today had gone into shock.

"Better than that hideous orange blanket." John heard Sherlock mummer as he settled into the warm fur that now coated his body. John wrapped his tail around the man pulling himself closer and barked out a laugh and when Sherlock realized the vibrating around him for laughter he couldn't help but join in with him.

** A/N finally done with chapter three. Sherlock feels a bit OOC but hey what can I do this stuff is writing itself. I must like this story 'cause it's becoming so long and I'm updating so quick. I've started on the next chap already to. Anyway thanks for reading and to those guests that reviewed thanks a lot. To those that commented signed in thank you and if I haven't sent you a reply for the review I'm sorry and I will later. As always thx for reading. R and R.**

**PS if there is something that you wanna see happen in the story leave a note in the review and I'll see if I can work it in cause I love challenges. ^_^ **

**Ta ta for now until chap 4.**


	5. Needs

Chapter four-Needs

Sherlock awoke to the pounding on the door to the flat. The past few days came to him in a rush as he looked at the huge black furred dog currently sleeping in the living area. John hadn't quite discovered how he changed back from this new form yet but this was the second time that he had made the change. The first was in the tunnel, then he had been white furred, the second was in the flat whilst he was wearing Sherlock's coat turning him black furred.

The insistent pounding started again and he pulled himself from the sofa and opened the door only to see Anderson standing at the door.

"What do you want Anderson?" Sherlock said, in an irritated voice, while stepping outside the door and closing it behind him.

"Lestrade sent me up to give you this case file." He said handing him a thick manila folder.

After taking the folder he made to move back into the flat but Anderson pushed his way inside, obviously wanting to know what Sherlock had sought to hide, causing him to lose his balance and land badly on his wrist.

John was still asleep until he heard Sherlock fall and he woke up angry. The protectiveness that he felt for Sherlock was only amplified in his current form and he growled baring his teeth and took a step toward the idiot that had harmed his friend.

Anderson froze in fear and began to babble unintelligently.

John took another step growling more audibly now. Then it happened. John could smell it before he saw it and he stepped away hastily.

Sherlock saw the stain start on the other man's pants and he moved away just as quickly as John had. Together the two residents of 221B watched as Anderson wet himself. As his pants became saturated with pee a puddle began to form around him and as it got bigger and bigger their eyes got wider and wider. Then a whole minute and a half later the flow stopped and Anderson stood there in his soggy, now dark blue, blue-jeans blushing redder than Rudolph's nose.

Three seconds later the two flatmates shared a glace and began giggling. Then Sherlock grabbed his phone from his trouser pocket and took a photo for blackmail purposes causing Anderson to flush even more.

John gave Sherlock a pointed look and the detective sighed but obeyed. Still chuckling in his deep baritone at Anderson's misfortune, he went into his room and grabbed a pair of tattered pajama bottoms that he was going to experiment on. Then he went over to the bathroom and grabbed an old towel and some carpet cleaner.

Going back into the living room area he found Anderson still in the puddle that he had made. He threw him the pajama bottoms. Anderson quickly removed his socks and shoes then his pants and trousers and put on the offered items.

Then he began scrubbing at the puddle with the towel and the cleaner.

Suddenly John found a bit of humor that caused him to bark out another laugh. Sherlock looked at him. He looked pointedly at Anderson and then back at Sherlock.

'Anderson on his knees scrubbing their floor' he realized remembering the comment that he had made to Sally the first day that John had accompanied Sherlock to a crime scene.

Sherlock laughed again.

A few minutes later Anderson was done and getting up. Sherlock looked over at the stain in the carpet. "Anderson I'm impressed I think this is the first time that I have actually seen you do something well." Anderson scowled but said nothing. Sherlock handed him a plastic bag and the man tossed his wet clothes in and walked out the door.

"Don't tell anyone about what you saw." Sherlock warned the man as he hurried to get away from the flat not even needing to mention the photo again.

When Anderson got downstairs Lestrade did a double take. "What happened to you?" He asked noticing the pajamas and bare feet.

Anderson said nothing.

The next day Lestrade called Sherlock asking him to come to a crime scene.

In the cab John was looking down and being quiet. Quite frankly it was starting to annoy Sherlock.

"John y-"he started to say only to be cut off by John looking at him sadly.

They had begun experimenting with John's ability to change. After the little fiasco with Anderson, John had changed back into his human form only to find that some of the traits from his other form remained. He had blond-gray ears on his head and he had a tail the same blond-gray color. He had been scared that if he made a full transformation he would get stuck again but at the same time he also didn't know how to make the traits go away.

More disturbingly than the physical traits was the fact that some of his reactions to certain things had changed.

Sherlock kind of felt bad about dragging John out now that he could see how self-conscious the man was.

Soon they had arrived at the crime scene and John walked even closer to Sherlock than he usually did. His tail involuntarily tucked itself between his legs and he whimpered almost inaudibly.

Sherlock pretended not to hear and John was grateful for that small courtesy.

Donovan was at the police tape and lifted it so that they could duck underneath.

"Well, well if it isn't the freak and his pet doggy," she said getting a good look at John and his ears and tail. She of course thought that they were fake.

John bit down on the urge to growl but he couldn't stop his ears from flattening on his head.

Sherlock took a step toward the Sargent and said darkly "don't ever call him a pet" the warning was implied and gulped hard and backed away.

"Come on John," he said as he quickly moved on toward the murder victim and John had to jog to catch up aware that his tail was wagging happily.

He also knew that Sherlock had noticed his he saw the tall man's smirk. Feeling playful John walked beside the man and whacked him with his tail on the back of the leg. The look that Sherlock gave him made him bite his lip to contain a giggle.

When they reached the body they both kneeled down. John cringed for a moment he had realized in the cab that his sense of smell was stronger than usual. Once he had adapted he gently examined the body. "She was strangled but the cause of death was poison administered through a needle," he said.

Sherlock saw the mark where the needle had entered and nodded in agreement. Then he began to prattle off about what he saw ending with "… so if the uncle had a membership to the gym across the street he's the murderer."

"Brilliant," John said smiling widely.

Sherlock grinned and impulsively tweaked on of John's doggy ears.

Since the case was solved Lestrade saw this as a good opportunity to see why John had canine ears and a tail.

"What's with the ears and tail?' he asked.

John blushed. "Experiment gone wrong." He said.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and dragged his blogger away.

By the next case that they had, a few days later, John could control the change and could easily morph back and forth at will. He found however that he like his half morphed state because it made him more useful at crime scenes. The only drawback was the fact that his half changed state made him playful and want to cuddle. He had long ago decided that while he was living with Sherlock it was fairly useless to try to have a normal relationship. Most days the only physical contact that he got was when Sherlock hauled him by the hand from place to place.

He didn't mind much because living with Sherlock was fun. But the canine in him wanted to be petted and played with and it was hard to crush those urges but he was successful at doing it and he never let Sherlock see how hard it was for him. He knew that the man would feel guilty even if he didn't show it. But not even John realized the toll denying the more emotional urges was having until they went to the crime scene.

It was the third murder victim of a serial killer and Sherlock immediately started to rattle of facts asking for John's input here and there.

John felt the urge to cuddle the man he crushed it. John felt the need to show how brilliant he thought Sherlock was by physically touching him he crushed that too. John wanted Sherlock to pet him he crushed that feeling too.

Suddenly he felt the world began to gray. He felt unsteady on his feet and his breathing became erratic. He felt tears began to run down his face but he couldn't stop them he couldn't even find the strength to raise a hand and wipe away the salty fluid that ran in rivulets on his cheeks.

"John," he heard someone call to him.

He opened eyes he hadn't even realized that he had closed and saw Sherlock's face above him. Then he became aware that he was being held in his friend's arms. He also saw that the police on the scene had gathered around to see if he was okay.

"People will talk even more now," he said

Sherlock gave a small relived smile at hearing the running joke between the two of them. Using a hand he checked his friend for a temperature. There wasn't one. John just looked ill. Then it hit him like bricks. John had, had less time to socialize and he had been controlling his emotions so that he didn't accidentally change. He also had canine like traits and canines needed attention and touch. John hadn't had an emotional outlet and this happened as a result.

Sherlock had never been good with emotions but he understood the part that they played for most people. But for John he would be willing to try to change so that he could be what he needed. Otherwise John would leave him. He shuddered at the thought. He needed John.

After a pointed look to Lestrade that told the man to get all of his officers away he hesitantly he took a hand and rubbed the base of the dog ears on his friend. John was shocked at first but then he leaned into the touch and began to hum in contentment. When Sherlock stopped John whimpered and thrust his head back under the hand. It was at that moment that Sherlock realized how starved for touch he was.

John pulled himself up and his blue eyes met Sherlock's multi colored ones and he blushed a bit. He still was a bit pale but he was feeling better.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"I should have noticed," Sherlock replied.

John's eyes shot up to him in surprise at that response.

"What else do you require John besides touch? I need my blogger at his best."

"Play." John said quietly

That made sense Sherlock thought to himself. There was a park across from this building. Decided he drug John over to the park. Once they reached a grassy area he petted one of his ears again and he said "You're it." Then he ran coat flying behind him like a cape. John shed his coat and dashed after him laughing.

After a minute he had caught up enough to dive at his friend. He easily tackled him. "You're it," he laughed getting up and dashing away. Only to run smack into Lestrade knocking them both down. Scrambling up he hid behind Donovan so that Sherlock couldn't tag him.

He was giddy, drunk with energy. He stepped away when Sherlock halted in front of Lestrade.

"What's going on," Lestrade asked amused.

"We're playing tag!" John said jumping up down. "Wanna play?"

Donovan, Sherlock, and Lestrade looked at him.

John looked over and saw a few others coming from the crime scene. There we also some kids at the park. "Ooh we could play Medic!" he said bouncing more and more. "Please, Please, Please" he begged. All the officers and Sherlock nodded in stunned agreement.

John bounced over to the teenagers and made some wild gestures and pointed at the group. They nodded. John and the four teens came over. They split into teams of five each. They played for an hour before they were too tired to continue. Panting John made his way to Sherlock and pounced on him and squishing him in a tight 'thank you' hug earning himself a genuine smile from the detective.

John was happy and he thrust his head under Sherlock's hand to be petted. Sherlock took the hint and John's tail happily thumped against him.

**A/N Alright this went in a weird direction. So tell me what you think and this might become a slash story but I think I'll wait to see what people want. John is going to be embarrassed next chap but I had to make the playful doggy scene happen it was too fun to pass up. Sherlock feels OOC and for that matter so does John but my excuse for him is that he is part doggy now so yeah. **

**Mycroft will make another appearance soon too. I just love him and his umbrella they are awesome.**

**Oh yeah and Medic is like freeze tag but only one person on each team can unfreeze people. It's really fun and I used to play it in school in Gym.**


	6. New Case

Chapter Five- New Case

John Watson woke up and stretched. He'd had an amazing dream that he and Sherlock had gotten a case and they had solved it and he had tackled the murderer. For a moment he was shocked that he considered that an excellent dream. Sherlock was really rubbing off on him it would seem. He opened his eyes and he was surprised to see the face of Sherlock looming above him.

"Morning John," Sherlock said as he turned the page of the book, a medical journal stolen from John's room, that he was reading.

"Have we been on the couch…?"

"All night yes."

"Why am I…?"

"Sleeping here with your head in my lap?"

John nodded.

"Your canine instincts were triggered in the night and you found me on the couch and proceeded to use me as a pillow."

John looked at his face. To his relief he found that his friend didn't seem upset.

"You talk in your sleep."

"Really?" John said pulling himself into a sitting position and stretching again.

"You said you loved me," Sherlock said looking at him with that piercing stare of his.

"I do love and you could have just asked if you really wanted to know because I know that I don't talk in my sleep." John said getting up to make tea.

"But you're so fond of pointing out the fact that…"

"I'm not gay. Gay implies that I like guys I only like one guy so I'm bi but if you want to be technical I'm straight with an exception."

"Why haven't you said anything before now?" Sherlock asked.

"You're married to your work and I didn't want to risk our friendship by saying it." John said. "Also I would have figured that you could deduce it and since you never brought it up neither did I." He finished as he opened the fridge and reached beyond the severed arm to get the milk at least it was it was an arm this time and not another penis John had to draw the line _somewhere_ after all.

"You're oddly calm about this," Sherlock said after John brought out the tea.

"I feel calm probably from all the excitement yesterday and it's not like I could hide anything from you anyway so I stopped trying to do so a long time ago."

"Hey do you want to make you brother squeamish?" John said about ten minutes later.

Sherlock perked up at that messing with Mycroft was his favorite form of recreation.

John walked to the couch where Sherlock was still seated and whispered into his ear "Sexual innuendos."

With a smile he started. "Sherlock you're amazing how can I be your first?"

Sherlock caught on quickly as he heard the shoes on stairs that could only be Mycroft. "John I may not be experienced but I know how things work."

"Really?" John taunted with a smile.

The door was beginning to open. Mycroft was probably coming in to protect his virtue or something. 'Kiss me' Sherlock mouthed to John. Sherlock figured he could accomplish to things at once scaring Mycroft for life and getting John to kiss him.

John didn't hesitate and to damage Mycroft more he quickly tugged off his night shirt and unbuttoned Sherlock's. Then he climbed on top of Sherlock locking the taller man's legs in between his own. Sherlock put his hands in John's short hair and brushed along his ears causing him to let out a gasp of pleasure and moved even closer as though if there was no room between them they could become one being. That was the pose that Mycroft walked in on.

John scrambled to put on his shirt to hide the smile on his face and Sherlock leveled a glare at Mycroft.

"Why must you ruin everything for me Mycroft?" Sherlock said with a frustration that wasn't only pretend.

For a moment Mycroft had no idea what to say. Briefly he considered reprimanding the doctor for almost deflowering his baby brother, on a couch no less, how unromantic, but he knew that would make his brother mad and a mad Sherlock was an uncooperative Sherlock so he dismissed the notion. His second thought was to leave but he had come here with purpose and he absolutely abhorred wasting time. His third thought was to ignore it and go about the business that had brought him to Baker Street in the first place and he went with that option.

Mycroft moved to sit in the armchair that belonged to Sherlock as he said "Dear brother you wound me and here I thought that you would like this case."

"Mycroft I-," Sherlock started to say. But it was too late if the growling that he was hearing was any indication. Since John's canine instincts had arisen he had become quite territorial about his seat and Sherlock's. The couch was fair play (which is why the guests were always seated there now) but he was enraged if anyone ever sat in either of the armchairs. Of course he didn't mind if Sherlock sat in his chair and he didn't mind sitting in Sherlock's. To John it seemed their two scents could mingle successfully.

"John," Sherlock said locking eyes with the man and nonverbally telling him to calm himself. "He has permission. As much as I hate to say it Mycroft is a necessary person and I do occasionally, rare though the moments are, hold the slightest bit of affection for him."

For a moment it seemed as though John was going to argue with him but he settled down. Then he took a step toward Mycroft indulging his canine side. He felt no need to hide in front of Mycroft seeing as the nosy one man government already knew all his secrets anyway.

Once in front of Mycroft he inhaled his scent filing it away in his mind so that he wouldn't go wild if he smelled the scent on their chairs. Mycroft smelled okay but he liked Sherlock's scent better. Sherlock smelled like light, mystery, adventure, strength, and adrenaline. Mycroft smelled like sneakiness, annoyance, power with a dash of sugar that made John a bit more amiable to the scent.

After that John flopped in his chair feeling a bit upset at knowing that the pure Sherlock scent would be gone from the chair for a while. He was sorely tempted to go back to his all human state but it was inconvenient and it hurt to make that kind of a change. Anyway he was more help to Sherlock like this and he could deny the man nothing.

"So dear brother," Mycroft started with his usual segue that basically meant 'you owe me a favor I'm calling it in and you are going to do it.'

"What's gone wrong in the States, Mycroft?"

Mycroft rolled his eyes at his brother's impatience and handed over a file. Had this been a movie or a show on the telly John was sure that 'TOP SECRET' would have been stamped across the front in all capital bold red lettering.

John could control the giggle that emerged when he considered the thought as well as the fact that Mycroft was in a suit that most likely cost more than what he had made in his lifetime. On the cop shows the FBI always wore suits.

Sherlock looked over at him and he instantly knew what thoughts had crossed his mind and his lips quirked involuntarily. There seemed to be a lot of involuntary done things where John was concerned and to his utmost surprise he found that he didn't mind.

After scanning the file it was easy to see that he was actually going to have to go to the States for this one. "Pack up John seems we're going on a trip."

**Okay I didn't intended to make them leave London it just kind of happened. Beware now that I made this happen I am going to have fun with American slang. Also the slash will be very tame and kind of spread out so if it's not your thing it will be fairly easy to ignore. The scene in this chap was kinda racy only because I wanted to mess with Mycroft. **

**Oh yeah Moriarty will appear eventually but I don't know if I be doing the fall because just thinking about it makes me sad. **

**Oh and if anyone would like me to insert something in seeing as the boys will be in America (don't know what state yet (plus not many fics send them to America in the first place)) let me know.**

**Also I might tweak this chapter later on cause I like it but it could be better but i want to get on with the story.**

**As always R and R.**


End file.
